The Plateau In Actuality, Analogy and Reality
by downtowndystopia
Summary: 80s punk rock scene in the heart of an unforgiving drug addled Montreal, Quebec. 5 people 5 stories one apartment in the heart of the plateau, the heart of Montreal and the dirty secrets it keeps. Eventual Klaine and Faberry with possible Brittana
1. Prologue

80s punk rock scene in the heart of an unforgiving drug addled Montreal, Quebec. 5 people 5 stories one apartment in the heart of the plateau, the heart of Montreal and the dirty secrets it keeps.

Kurt Hummel: 21, Montreal native, gay as the day is young, artist, self proclaimed manwhore, free spirit by definition.

Blaine Anderson: 17, quiet, gay, ran away from home, no one knows why, he doesn't talk much. Innocent as one can be when living in the plateau. Musician but he'll deny it if you ever ask him.

Quinn Fabray: 19, Major daddy issues-don't even ask, plays bass in a different band every week but it pays well. Ex cheerleader, Ex heterosexual, Ex rich girl from the suburbs Ex mom (but we don't talk about that)

Mike Chang: 20, Toronto native, Dancer, quiet but nice, strait, loves anything that isn't asian food, tea drinker.

Santana Lopez: 23, Head bitch with claws and fangs-watch out. College drop out, currently 'dances' every night at "Le Cité du Sin" (City of Sin) strip club, because hey, it pays the bills.

Five roommates joined by forces of mostly not their own choosing (for example Blaine Anderson crawling through a window with a black eye on a rainy night and begging them not to call his parents). Five best friends in an unforgiving city, all artists in their own way. Through paint and lyric, through tears and movement watch their story grow, it may not be a big story, or a story that isn't commonly found in these times. But it's a story and maybe you'll be able to see a little bit of yourself among the lost youth that live at 305 St. Joseph Boulevard. Maybe we can all see ourselves in another person's tale. But that isn't my story to tell.

Rated M

Warnings: Slight Quebecois dialogue (mostly restaurant names, clubs, streets, etc), Slash, Drug use, possible prostitution/definite strip dancing.

Will be 6-10 chapters

Eventual: Klaine, Faberry and Brittanna (maybe)


	2. Foufounes Electriques

Chapter Two: Foufounes Electriques

"Jeeze boy you belong in Westmount!" Santana said with a wink. Blaine blushed, he'd never tell her that's where he grew up. The rest of the group usually spoke jumbled Quebecois, he knew that. Blaine had grown up in Westmount, the rich English district of Montréal, he could speak French okay but never really had to, his parents sheltered him from the 'dirty punks' that resided in the plateau. Thankfully Blaine caught on quickly to their dialect, they still spoke English to him most of the time once they found out its what he preferred.

"Well sorry I find it weird that you guys are going to a place called Electric Butt cheeks" Blaine defended. Foufounes Electriques was a shabby punk club down the road a bit, when Blaine found out what foufounes meant he widened his eyes in shock. He knew the punk life was all about shock value but sometimes it was just crude.

Blaine had always opted out of going to the clubs that the group went to every Friday (and Saturday, they were usually too hung over on Sunday to really do anything that involved loud music). Blaine also opted out of the wild parties they had monthly.

The group had at least one big ' rent party' on the last Thursday of every month. They got Montréal's hottest punk bands (aka any of their friends that would play for free beer). They charged a small fee at the door, bought a shit ton of cheap beer to sell, and threw Montréal's largest and best party of the month. They called it "Jospeh After Hours" and it pretty much covered the 850 dollars of rent (or it would if they didn't spend half of it after the party getting drunk, buying food that they usually cant afford or buying new art supplies/music equipment).

Halfway through every party they'd warn saying they only had about one case of beer left, by then everyone was too drunk to notice there was still plenty to go around, they almost never had extra booze the next morning and almost always had raked in enough money to be comfortable for a couple of days. They may be punks but their business skills were quite developed thanks to Mike who had been raised to be an accountant before he ran away from London Ontario to be a dancer at Lalala Dancesteps. Lalala toured with David Bowie, they were the hottest dance company in Montréal, when Mike found out he had gotten through the Toronto auditions, he uprooted his life to Montréal and dedicated his life to dance, barely leaving his conservative parents a goodbye note. He was an utter disappointment according to his parents but according to his friends he was just Mike.

"_So why don't you throw these parties like every week and be rich then?" Blaine inquired when he heard about the monthly act. _

"_Well its not exactly legal…" Kurt said quietly, Blaine gulped but didn't say anything as Quinn interrupted Kurt, explaining, _

"_You're not allowed to charge for beer without a license and you're not allowed to use a residence as a venue, as long as no one calls the cops we're okay, but if it was more than a monthly occurrence we could get in some serious shit." She said patting Blaine on the back, it was obvious he had never done anything illegal before. _

"_But," Quinn added,_

"_We invite our neighbors every month and give them free booze as long as they keep their mouth shut, we haven't been caught yet" Quinn smiled reassuringly, Blaine beamed back. It was decided that he'd stay in Kurt's room during the party since that was off limits and just read or write music until everyone had left, sometimes he'd fall asleep since it got to be a little late. Those were his favourite night when he would wake up to Kurt holding him, warm. He knew Kurt didn't want him that way and that they were just friends but it was nice, having someone hold you, having a warm body next to yours. Blaine always apologized the next morning for falling asleep which Kurt would brush off, saying 'its nothing' and smiling sweetly, if only it meant something…_

"So anyways," Kurt interrupted Blaine's thoughts.

"Tonight Quinn is playing with her new all girl band 'The Zellots', I think that she might actually stick with this one if the lead singer isn't too much of a bitch" Kurt added excitedly. Whenever Quinn was in a band, she was happier, less of an ass and was almost never in the apartment and therefore never brought any trashy girls home to fuck. That had been something Blaine had quickly gotten used to, although he was a virgin and never planned on bringing anyone home, the rest of them did…_a lot._

"So we're going to support her like a good friend," Kurt explained

"I'll even buy you a ginger ale" Kurt added with a wink. Blaine mumbled something along the lines of 'yeah okay as long as you don't spike it' or some form of agreement, but he was more or less enamored with the fact that Kurt Hummel winked at him. That would be a memory he kept for a while when the nightmares took over.

Turns out Foufounes Electriques was every bit of punk rock trash that Blaine had been expecting, it was run down and one could see mohawks, bowie cuts, and fringes in every color of the rainbow. There was a bit of a line but the group (minus Quinn who was doing sound check) walked up to the front where a tough looking metal head was leaning against a wall. They explained they were with Quinn Fabray and he let them in. It wasn't an exclusive club, but hey, why wait in a line when you can just get in because your roommate is playing a set?

The inside was of the club was _interesting _to say the least. It had beaten up couches and worn wooden floors that were stained with fluids Blaine didn't really want to think about. Blaine picked a booth close-ish to the stage but far away from the refrigerator amps that would probably blow his eardrums out if he got too close.

As Blaine was examining the club they were in Kurt appeared out of nowhere, interrupting his thoughts yet again, but this time with a drink in his hand. Blaine looked at him questioningly it didn't look like just gingerale. Kurt sighed.

"Just gingerale, no vodka, tequila or beer has been added" Blaine smiled gratefully and took a sip. He scrunched his face at the flavour. He should have known better than to trust Kurt to respect his wishes to not get drunk at his first club.

"Okay so maybe a little tequila drink up pretty boy!" Kurt said hurriedly. Blaine shook his head but downed the foul tasting drink in one go before Kurt gave him another. A couple more drinks later and the room was spinning, no wait, Kurt was spinning him. The music had started, Kurt didn't look too sober either, he was pressing close against Blaine, moving him slowly despite the offensive punk music being played.

_blades in night shadows shattered ideals_

_broken glass feelings bleed weapons to wield_

_in the park, in the night, in the shadows that lie_

_in the deep gutted buildings where the lonely streets sigh_

The song seemed to be about the dangers of the cold city, it had a good beat to it, not too hard but not exactly slow dance material. Suddenly a slower song came on, not slow as in Blue Moon at the homecoming dance slow, but slow enough it gave Kurt and excuse to put his arms around Blaine's neck and sink his chin in the crook of Blaine's shoulder.

_He's a mystery, shadow dancer_

_Looking at me with grey-blue eyes_

Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes with wonder.

_Where's his world? Tried to find it looking at you our worlds collide_

The music blended into the background as Kurt hung closer to Blaine, it seemed like their world had just melted into a blur of color and sound.

_Days pass by drifting slowly_

_Morning sun to deep midnight_

"You're so sexy" Kurt whispered breathily to Blaine, the hot air against his neck with the heightened senses brought on by the alcohol made him shiver. When Blaine didn't respond, Kurt starred kissing his neck, rubbing his groin against Blaine's.

"Kurt" Blaine moaned. He had never felt so alive, so _good_ he knew it was partly the alcohol talking and if he were sober he'd never let Kurt rut against him in public like this but right now all he cared about was that the most beautiful boy he'd ever laid his eyes upon was doing wonderful things with his mouth to Blaine's neck while simultaneously making him shudder with pleasure against the beautiful body pressed against him. He could feel the hot coil of pleasure run through his veins, slowly but surely he knew he was close. Then Kurt did something with his tongue that made Blaine groan again in pleasure. He has never felt this good.

"Kurt, you do wonderful things with your tongue" Blaine slurred honestly, the alcohol giving him courage. Kurt smirked against the now forming hickey on Blaine's neck.

"Well then maybe we should go back to the apartment and I can show you what other wonders I can do with my tongue" Kurt winked and slowly pulled Blaine away from the crowd, he had been getting so close and then Kurt had stopped rutting, he was about to protest beforel he realized what Kurt meant.

"_Oh_, uh-yeah we'd better get going then" Blaine said eagerly, trying not to sound too desperate.

They arrived at the apartment about 5 minutes later, Kurt kissing him roughly as they walked up the stairs, trying not to stumble in their drunken state.

"Ugh-Blaine you're so" _kiss_ "Fucking" _kiss _"Hot" he kissed him again for emphasis. When they got to the top of the stairs Kurt leaned down slightly to reach Blaine's height and whispered hotly in his ear as Blaine continues kissing down Kurt's pale, soft neck.

"I can't wait to have my mouth stretched around your cock, ugh you make me so hot, Blaine _mph-_" Blaine kissed him again, this time more urgently. They wasted no time going to Kurt's room after that, Kurt laying Blaine on the bed to take off his shirt while working off his own as quick as he could. When they were both shirtless Blaine took a moment to stare at Kurt. Blaine lay there stunned, simply looking at Kurt, how perfect he was, how perfect his smooth chest was, his now bruising neck, his angelic face that still after so many years showed veiled and true innocence.

Then Kurt was on him again in a haze of lust, kissing down his chest, licking his nipples and sucking a hickey right below Blaine's waistband.

"_Oh god Kurt!" _Blaine wailed as Kurt teasing pulled Blaine's pants down while kissing up and down his torso, worshipping his chest.

After what felt like forever, Blaine's pants and boxers were now discarded on the floor and he realized he was completely naked for Kurt.

"Uh…I don't really know what I'm doing here Kurt I've never…"Blaine trailed off hoping Kurt got the point. He had guessed as much, Blaine never brought anyone over, never spoke about any guys he liked. Blaine Anderson had never gotten a blowjob.

"Shh baby" Kurt comforted, kissing the base of Blaine's cock which elicited a very erotic moan from Blaine.

"Just let me take care of you," Kurt said in a soft voice, stopping when he was able to take a look at Blaine's cock.

"You're beautiful" Kurt smiled. Blaine was about to say something when all of a sudden there was an amazing wet warmth surrounding the head of his cock. He had never felt anything so amazing all he wanted to do was thrust into the wet heat but something in his head was telling him not to. Blaine was already holding onto the sheets on Kurt's bed for dear life as if they were the only thing keeping him from exploding. Kurt took him deeper and Blaine couldn't help but thrust into Kurt's mouth, causing Kurt to cough and sputter. He felt a firm hand on his stomach after that.

"Easy boy" Kurt teased. Blaine was about to apologize because _oh my god I did not just try to fuck my roommates face_ when Kurt sunk back down on Blaine, bobbing his head slightly, swallowing around his dick. Kurt changed his technique from sucking Blaine with hollowed cheeks, to swirling his tongue around the head, paying extra attention to the thick vein on the underside of Blaine's dick. Blaine was close, dangerously close.

"Kurt- I-I'm gonna" Blaine tried to warn but Kurt just went down further with more enthusiasm until Blaine couldn't hold off.

He came with a string of profanities and Kurt's name over and over again, Kurt swallowing every drop, almost milking his dick until he was so oversensitive it started to hurt and he nudged Kurt off. Kurt landed beside him with a thud, he had obviously been jerking himself off while blowing Blaine because he was no longer hard and had come all over his hand. Kurt wiped it off on an old ragged shirt and laid beside Blaine, cuddling into his arms, pants still around his ankles.

"Kurt we should, get dressed I should go back to my bed-" Kurt pulled himself tighter into Blaine's arms.

"No we're going to cuddle and fall asleep" Kurt said stubbornly, pulling the comforter over their naked bodies while pushing his pants off himself and on the floor. Blaine fell asleep holding Kurt with dreams of glasz eyes watching him lovingly and soft pink lips against his own.


End file.
